CHAPTER 12

Reil lost track of how far they traveled onward. Once, she managed to pull herself up into a sitting position, stick her head out the front flap and speak to the driver. “Sergeant, has this wagon become a magnet for every ditch you can find?” Her inquiry was voiced in her most ‘I am an officer, damnit’ type mode. The sergeant leaned over, not taking his eyes off the road, although Reil found that it was only a small comfort. “Sorry, Lt. I’ve been ordered to get you there and back in as quick a time as possible.” Reil sighed wearily, then in her most booming, and commanding voice, replied. “You’ll make your time on the way back, soldier! Or I’ll personally have your stripes!” The sergeant snapped upright in his seat, perhaps realizing that he was indeed talking to an officer, and by all accounts, one who had been responsible for many of the lives saved on the battlefield a few days prior. He mumbled a quick apology, and although Reil could hardly tell, the road did seem to become a bit less bumpy.

It was after dark, when the horses drew the wagon up to the entrance of the Collingsworth property. The sergeant steered the horses towards the barn, figuring that since the front of the house showed no lights, he might have better luck in the back. Having heard the noise, Emma, as well as Flo and Jimmy came out to see what the commotion was about. The sergeant was hollering for some help, calling out for whomever might hear. Emma grabbed the man by the arm, wanting to slap him in the face to calm him down, but it was not needed. “What’s all the noise for? It’s late, you know...tell me...what’s the matter?” For the last ten miles, the lieutenant had been unconcious. Unable to rouse the young soldier, he had made haste all the way, heedless of any thought other than to get the soldier to care. “He’s been out for about a half hour, ma’am. You gotta get him inside, ‘fore it’s too late.” A flicker of recognition hit him square in the eyes as Emma lifted up the lantern to peer into the back of the wagon, but he kept his thoughts to himself. If the orders said to bring the lieutenant here, then that’s what he would do. But, he thought to himself, this sure is odd, most odd.

Reil came around briefly as Emma entered the wagon. Through the cloud of her fever ridden mind, the young woman managed to lift her hand, cupping Emma’s face. “Em...” she managed to croak. The hand fell away, the energy it had expended to get there all but faded. Emma placed her hands on Reil’s face, brushing away sweat damp hair. “Oh, Reil...love. What have you done?” She began quickly snapping directions to those assembled, her ability to do something useful overriding her desire to collapse into tears. Knowing that she had finally made it to her hearts’ destination, Reil faded blissfully back into unconciousness.

The sergeant helped Jimmy lift Reil’s body out of the wagon and into the house. Placing the small, pale form on the bed, he gave Emma a brief description of what was going on, then made his way back to the stable. After seeing to the horses, he found himself a comfortable patch of hay, and a worn grey blanket. His last thoughts before drifting off to sleep were, again, odd...most odd.

While Reil tossed and turned in a fitful sleep, oblivious to the outside world, Emma was busy tending to the needs of the injured woman. After shooing Flo out of the room, citing Reil’s acute sense of modesty, she gently removed the torn and dirty uniform and began to gently bathe the young woman. Flo had been none too happy at the excuse, but complied, saying that she would fix up some broth, in case the lieutenant woke up. As she carefully soaped and rinsed the battered body, Emma noticed for the first time, old scars. There were two on the woman’s back, as well as what looked like an entrance and exit wound on the thigh of the uninjured leg. She wondered just how many skirmishes the woman had been in, that she hadn’t been told about. There were several new cuts and scrapes, from either the battle, or the wild wagon ride. She cleaned each one out carefully and applied a pungent salve to prevent infection.

She managed to pull a fresh sleep shirt over the unconcious woman, the rest of her wounds were below the hemline. The wound Reil had recieved the week prior was healing nicely, causing Emma to sigh in relief...at least that was one less problem. The condition of Reil’s leg, however, was another matter altogether. Carefully, she soaked the old bandages, then slowly pulled them away, ever concious of preventing more damage. Some sign of infection was present, but it didn’t look as if it had progressed too far. Upon looking at the leg, finally free of the bandages, Emma had wanted to cry. She knew without having been told, that Reil might never walk again.

Seeing no way of avoiding it, Emma poured the strongest whiskey in the house onto Reil’s decimated leg. It was the only way she knew to try and stop the spread of infection. At the first contact of the first drop of the fiery liquid, Reil bolted upright in bed, hands digging into the sheets, a strangled cry escaping her lips. Emma was just able to pour on a bit more, enough to ensure that the wound was washed throughly. She then pulled Reil into a tight embrace, mindful always of the other wounds. “Shush, love. I had to clean the wound. It’s over now, lie back down.” Emma continued murmuring soft nothings and endearments to the young woman until she lay back down on the bed.

Reil lay there, softly moaning, writhing slightly from the pain, eyes shut tight. “Oh, Em...it hurts! Please...make it stop...please...” This was said in a fierce whisper, her voice too weak after the last abuse. Earilier, she had been unable to show how much pain she was in, fearful that Rock would take it as a weakness, an excuse to force her to give up fighting. Here, safe and loved, she could voice her agony. Gently letting go of her embrace, the tall woman dug through Reil’s bag that the sergeant had brought along. Emma found some medicine, along with a small note.

Mrs. Collingsworth, (for I know it shall be you that finds this) you may administer the morphine as needed for pain, one vial at a time, no more than three per day. Please do not tell her the medicine came from me. She would refuse it if she knew. Take good care of her...as I was unable to do. Thank you.

Rock

Emma wasn’t sure of what to make of the note which she crumpled into a ball and tossed into the small blaze which had been lit earlier in the fireplace. Why had Rock been unable to care for Reil? It made no sense, but she put the thought away, focusing on the task at hand. She readied the medicine, having no trouble with the syringe, having had to do this same task numerous times when the brothel had been used as a makeshift hospital. Carefully measuring out the dose, she gently turned Reil on her side, and administered the drug. Within moments, the young face no longer held a pained expression, the eyes actually clearing slightly from the absence of pain. “Better?” she asked, softly stroking a wisp of blonde hair. Reil gave a small nod. “Pain is still there, but it’s more dulled. Where’d you get the medicine?”

Emma thought about this for a moment, Rock had said not to say it was from him, but he was a doctor, so... “The doctors at the field hospital sent it along with you, don’t you remember?” There, thought Emma, that was obscure enough. The small blonde shook her head, she didn’t remember much of the days’ events at all. In her fevered state, she struggled to remember what exactly had happened that day, but was unable to recall much of it at all. Slowly the drug took deeper effect, and she struggled to keep her eyes open. She watched through half-lidded eyes as Emma finished bandaging her leg. Sleep claimed her unwillingly, tugging her into the land of dreams filled only with more fighting, more pain, more betrayal.

Emma watched as her lover slipped back into an uneasy sleep. She had hoped to get some liquids in the woman while she had been awake, but sleep was more important right now. The poor woman had taken too much abuse in the past few days. Sleeping would at least allow the woman to gain some strength to fight off the infection. She settled for applying cool compresses, remaining by the bedside until the wee hours of the morning. She ended up in a chair, her upper body draped across Reils’, as the first rays of sun darted across the small room.

Flo had come in during the night and draped a blanket across both of them. She didn’t have the heart to wake Emma, even to move her fully to the bed, knowing that the woman would have protested. She placed the bowl of broth on the fireplace hook, far enough away from the embers so as not to boil away in the night. As she wearily walked back to her own cottage, she noticed that the barn door was ajar. Peeking in, she spotted two empty stalls and no sign of the wagon which had arrived in the night. A might bit perplexed that the soldier hadn’t even stayed for breakfast, she put it down to having to report back to his unit. She made a mental note to get his name from Reil, send him a thank you note.

Sergeant Thornton wouldn’t have appreciated the sentiment. He had slept just long enough to feel a bit more rested, then hooked up the horses once again to the wagon. Racing pell mell through the waning night, the mans’ only intent was reaching his goal...the command tent of the Federal Army of the Potomac. Every now and then he cast a glance back to make sure his precious cargo was still there. He would place a hand reassuringly on an old calvary saddle, gray blanket, and shaving kit of an unknown Confederate officer.

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Reil sat by the hearth in the kitchen, legs propped up, mug of warm tea in her hand. She preferred coffee, but it was hard to come by these days. As was the sugar and cream she preferred in it. So she sat, staring into the soft flames, while the rain once again pounded it’s rhythm on the panes of the kitchen windows, sipping unsweetened tea. It had been days before she could venture out of bed, and days more until she had been able to convince Emma that she wanted to be in the kitchen where she at least had different walls to look at. A large orange tabby had made it’s way into the house, seeking shelter from the rain. Flo had tried to kick the poor miserable creature back out into the elements. “Darn cat...barn is where you belong!” Reil remembered clearly how she had been able to coax the gruff housekeeper into letting the animal stay. She was rather proud of the small victory, having lost so much lately.

The blonde woman frowned, thoughtfully stroking the soft fur of the animal who had found it’s way onto her lap. The animal dozed in contented slumber, the low rumbling of a purr the only indication that the large cat was aware of the attention. Reil wished she could attain such peaceful slumber. Each night was a never ending battle. She was torn from sleep either from intense pain from her leg, or harrowing nightmares ranging from the battlefield to the look in her fathers eyes that horrible night.

Her saving grace had been Emma. Like an angel of mercy, the concerned woman had never left her side. Offering generous comfort and a shoulder to cry on; even on those nights when Reil didn’t remember waking up, she could see the dark hollows under the other womans’ eyes, indicating little sleep had been had that night. Several times Reil had insisted on trying to walk, stubborn pride getting the best of her. Each time, Emma would offer both physical and emotional support, as each time Reil would ultimately fail in her attempts. Reil was convinced she would walk again, and in her mind, that...was that.

Emma walked into the kitchen, took one look at her, and was immediately at the young womans’ side. “Are you in pain, love?” she asked in a low voice filled with concern. Reil hadn’t realized she was frowning so hard, and immediately relaxed her face. “No,” she said, placing a hand on the other womans’ arm. “I was just thinking. You needn’t worry so.”

Emma knelt down beside the chair, bringing her hand to the face of the woman she loved so terribly much. Her thumb traced a small scar along Reil’s right cheekbone. It was fading, but gave the younger woman a rather dangerous look that Emma found somewhat endearing, knowing full well how gentle Reil was deep inside. It didn’t detract from the beauty of the woman, rather, it added character. Reil had mentioned that it was an outward reflection for all to see, of the changes she had undergone. Emma continued to run her thumb gently over the mark, wishing that it didn’t have to be so.

Since that first night, Reil had retreated into a shell, stubbornly refusing to admit that she was in any pain. She would take the morphine only when Emma insisted, and would never take more than one dose per day. Reil complained that the drug, while it did help with the pain, left her fuzzy headed, and she didn’t like not being able to focus. Emma tried not to push too hard, but she knew there were times when the woman was in excruciating pain.

The tall woman had taken to holding her through the worst of it, sometimes reading to her, othertimes singing softly. She loved those times, but also hated them, knowing how much pain her love was in. There were even times when they would comfort each other. Reil’s frustration with her leg would overcome her, and Emma’s feelings of helplessness would come crashing through...neither woman knowing what the future would hold, only that they would be in it together.

A lone tear slipped out and Reil’s strong hand went immediately to the taller woman’s face, wiping it away. Emma looked deeply into the eyes of the woman who was the other half of her soul, the other half that she’d almost lost. “If I didn’t worry about you, you’d be off trying to stomp about on that leg of yours. And then where would you be?” Emma succeed in lightening the dour mood the two were close to slipping into. They had both learned to recognize it, and vowed to each other that they wouldn’t let it carry them away. A small smile pulled at the corners of Reils’ mouth. “I’d be stomping to where ever you were, of course!” They both let out a small laugh, aware of the truth in the statement.

At that moment, Jimmy came through the back door, holding something behind his back. He shook off some water, wiped his boots on the mat and shyly approached the two. As he came closer, both women could see a sparkle in his eye, as well as a mischievous grin begging to be brought forth. They both smiled up at him, as he just stood there, shuffling from foot to foot. Reil could take the suspense no longer. “Ok, Jimmy. What gives? You look like the cat that just ate the mouse.” With that, the cat on Reils’ lap lifted his head and jumped down in one swift movement, every motion screaming indignation. “I think Oughtnot was put out by that!” Jimmy said laughing. “Oughtnot...what an odd name.” Reil couldn’t help but wonder how the rotund cat had gotten it’s name.

“Oh, when he was a kitten, he was always getting into things that he ‘ought not’ get into...the name stuck.” Emma supplied. They all had a laugh at this, Reil thinking that it was very true, seeing as how Flo had thought the cat ‘ought not’ be here, but in the barn, earlier that day. “Alright, enough distraction, whatcha got there, Jimmy?” Reil was even more curious than before. “Oh...yeah.” He pulled out two items from behind his back. The first was a crutch. “I made this special for you. Smoothed down the wood, then oiled it real good. I used an old blanket with some cotton batting to cushion the arm rest.” I hope you like it.

Reil was speechless. She hadn’t fully thought out her recovery, but she realized now, that she would have to take it in stages. She figured the crutch was a good idea. It would get her moving around, and allow her to slowly start using her injured leg once more. The second item, however, truely took her breath away. It was an intricate, hand carved cane. The brass handle softly reflecting the firelight, she pulled it closer and could make out several letters engraved on the shaft where the handle met the wood. ECRB All along the length of the shaft were meticulously carved vines, leafs and small bunches of grapes. Reil ran her hand along the surface, marveling at the workmanship. “Did you make this yourself? It’s beautiful.” Words could hardly describe her feelings. “It’s too much, I can’t possibly take this.”

Jimmy ducked his head low, blushing slightly. “Aw, heck, Lieutenant, g’wan and take it. Think of it as a motivation to get walkin’ again. Spent the last two weeks on it, just for you.” Reil gave the young man a sturdy handshake, wishing she could give him a big hug, as such a present deserved. Emma saw Reil struggle with the awkwardness and spoke up. “Jimmy here was apprenticed to Roger for four years. But business has been slow, what with the war and all. My guess is, it probably kept him out of trouble!” She took the liberty of giving him a hug, allowing Reil to exit from the conflicting emotions that she saw the woman was desperately trying to hold back. The last thing she needed was to have Reil start hugging Jimmy in a very feminine way, it would blow the womans’ cover for sure. Or at the very least, produce some questions from the man.

Jimmy was oblivious to the whole exchange. “Here, try out the crutch, your leg is probably healed enough by now for it’s use.” With the help of the two of them, Reil made it to her feet. Unaccustomed to the change of height, she wobbled a bit, steadying herself on her good leg. Emma’s hand on her arm also helped. Finally, she thought, something to take my mind off the boredom, and a little more freedom as an added bonus! She tucked the crutch under one arm, and took a shaky step, placing very little weight on the injured leg. She made it all the way to the small butcher block island in the kitchen, which she leaned heavily against. Turning to look back at Emma, a wide smile crossed her face. “Half way there, love. Half way there.” Then looking over at Jimmy, “You have my deepest thanks, young man. You did a fine job with this crutch.” Jimmy practically beamed.

Emma knew the smaller woman meant half way to walking again and couldn’t help but smile back. Maybe, she thought, just maybe, this amazing woman would walk again. Even if it’s to prove everyone wrong who said she couldn’t. But the effort had visibly drained Reil and Emma suggested that she lay down for a while before dinner. For once, Reil didn’t argue. The now mobilized woman happily thunked her way towards the bedroom, finally collapsing onto the bed. In a short time, she was fast asleep, Emma there by the bed as always, watching over her love, protecting her from the nightmares that, this time, didn’t come.

Part 12